The Horror Of Our Love
by Karkalicious769
Summary: "I imagine many things. Most of these 'things' have something to do with you. I want to touch you, love you, hug you, kiss you, smell you, squeeze you, break you, crush you, own you, until your soul - every last damn bit of your soul - is fucking mine." (Yandere!Dave x Karkat oneshot)


**A/N: This was supposed to be a Halloween story, but I figured most of you would have plans that day, so here. And before you ask: Yes. Yes, this was based of Yandere Simulator. Don't judge me!**

 **And Merry Halloween!**

* * *

Your name is Karkat Vantas.

At least you think it is. You're having trouble remembering. It's been so long since you used your last name at all.

Currently, you are being held prisoner by someone you thought to you could trust.

Someone who kills people.

You have no concept of time anymore, and to prevent total insanity, you've begun living in your memories. Specifically, the ones pertaining to the last month or so.

All the blood on his hands seems to coat your mind. You have trouble thinking about anything else, much less escape. Really, what's the point anymore?

You don't want to relive it, but you find yourself doing it anyway, because there was nothing else for you to do by this point except entertain a non-existent audience.

You don't have the energy to resist, anyway.

 _ **The Past, Via Memory: Time, Date, and Global Coordinates Varying**_

John was the first to go.

You remember crying, but then again, who hadn't? He was practically best friends with everyone in the school. It always astounded you how he knew everyone's names, their likes and dislikes, their siblings and the way things were going at home.

It might have been creepy had it been anyone else.

But because it was John, people just seemed to expect it, and so did you. You once thought you hated him for it, but in reality, you had been crushing bad.

Looking back, you can't believe how hard you had fallen.

Then you grew up and moved into high school. You got over him pretty easily after that. Slowly, you started spending more time with a friend he introduced you to, Dave Strider, until, one night when you were curled up in his arms in front of the TV as the ending credits to one of your romcoms played, you sleepily confessed your old feelings for John with a laugh.

Dave didn't join in.

A few days later, John died. Suicide, you were told. The pressure to keep up his grades, relationships, and place as the pride and joy of the school swim team just bore down on him until he snapped. Or at least, that's what his suicide note read.

Back then, you hadn't realized that it was faked.

After his funeral, you clung to Dave's chest and sobbed, too overcome with your own grief to notice his bone dry cheeks or the small smirk on his face as he held you tightly and whispered that everything would be fine.

Eventually, you began to believe him.

You still grieved when ever you thought about John, but it gradually began to hurt a little less, and you taught yourself how to properly deal with the pain. It was a healing process, one you wanted to finish as soon as possible.

It was around this time that you spent the night at Dave's again.

For some reason, he had wanted to play truth or dare and, in response to his question when you and choose truth, you jokingly shared your old feelings for Terezi, ones you thought she returned once. Dave hadn't said much after that.

A few days after, she was dead too. Again, you didn't think very hard about it when the investigators reported that she had been stabbed in the chest. You didn't care that someone had broken into her house. To you, the casualties had been heartbreaking enough. Her death had ripped open the fragile stitching that you had used to fix yourself after John's death, and you were convinced life couldn't get any worse.

You were so wrong.

After that the killings passed in a blur.

Nepeta was next, her skull bashed in with a blunt object and several bones fractured. One of her cracked ribs had poked a hole in her lungs, and she had eventually died by drowning in her own blood. Equius came just a few minutes later though. Supposedly, he had tried to protect her and was instead choked to death slowly and painfully.

Jade came after. She was killed when a small fire engulfed her house in flames and caused the old building to collapse on top of her, crushing her. If the house hadn't killed her, than the intensity of the flames would have.

Then, Sollux, blinded with a harsh hit to his skull before having what was left of his eyes gouged out. He died ultimately from blood loss, there on his living room floor, too busy choking on his own blood to finish gasping out his final words to Aradia, who was killed as well barely even a day later. Crushed in a car wreck, her brakes torn up beyond all recognition.

Vriska, stabbed, ironically enough, in the back. She probably deserved such a death to some extent, but the thought only made you cry harder. You never wanted anyone to die.

It probably would have carried on like this for a while until, one day, you're grief engulfed mind began trying to connect the dots. Excluding gender and the fact that all the victims were your friends, one particularly strange link fell into place.

All of them had been single.

At first you thought it was ridiculous, why would a killer target people with no sex lives?, but when you took a deep breath and stepped back, the picture was all too clear. And not at all pretty.

After all, Tavros had Gamzee, Kanaya had Rose, and Eridan had Feferi. But why their relationship status even mattered in the first place didn't make sense.

Until you considered one last 'coincidence'.

Anytime someone had been killed, it had happened a few days after you spent time with Dave. You would express past feelings, or talk about how much you valued them as a friend, and then they'd be gone. There was no one else it could be besides Dave. But you had to be sure.

Back then, no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn't have seen Dave as a killer. Now you knew better.

You came up with a plan. It was risky, and if it went wrong, you were going to kill yourself over grief, but if it was successful, you could stop the killings once and for all.

Neither happened.

Offhandedly one day, you mention to Dave that you thought you were beginning to develop feelings for Gamzee. You wanted to gag as soon as the words came out, after all he was one of your best, and strictly platonic, friends, but he was the easiest for you to fake a crush on, and so while you do it.

Dave doesn't say anything, but his smile drops to a flat, displeased line, and something you had never noticed before flashes across his face.

Hate.

You ignore the feeling of dread in your stomach, and go back to work on your math problems.

After a few days, Gamzee doesn't show up for his last class, which he happened to share with you and Dave, who did come, but a few minutes late and out of breath. Your suspicions rise, along with your anxiety.

After school, Dave walked you home from school like he usually does, but he turned down your invitation to come inside. You frowned, and say goodbye, watching him disappear around the corner.

The second he was out of sight, you flung open your door and hurried after him, careful to be fast but not loud.

It didn't take you long to figure out that he was heading back towards the school. Hell, you only lived five blocks from the place. The only question was exactly what he wanted from the building.

When he enters school grounds though, you hang back. Following him in would have been too suspicious. Besides, he'd have to come out eventually, anyway. There was only one entrance to the place.

After ten minutes you start to reconsider. Surely, it shouldn't take him this long to just grab something and come back out, right? Apparently though, it does. You waited another thirty seconds, your foot tapping the cement ground impatiently, before you threw your hands up in the air, exasperated, and stalked towards the school.

You hoped he had a good reason for this detour, otherwise there'd be Hell to pay.

It takes a second to find Dave. Not because he was hiding, for fucks sake, he was in the middle of the field, but because you're brain didn't process what you were seeing for a second.

He was... pushing a large... tuba case... across the campus. The first thing you thought was, "Why would he need that? He doesn't play tuba". Then you paused to reconsider. "What the actual fuck" seemed to fit this situation a lot better.

Bewildered, you come up behind Dave as he struggled to lug the heavy thing home. "Uh, Dave?" You ask, tapping his shoulder. You probably shouldn't have been so close, a decision you would later regret. Shocked, he whirls around and grabs the collar of your shirt, slamming you against the trunk and sending it onto it's side and you flat on your ass.

When he realizes who he attacked though, his eyes widen and shock and horror crosses his features. "Holy fuck, Karkat! I'm so fucking sorry!"

He moves to help you up, but you move back, feeling bile rise in your throat as you stare at Dave, no longer seeing the person you had known for four years. Instead you saw a monster.

Seeing the look of terror etched into your features, Dave looked down at his trunk, which had bust wide open at the impact. You hadn't been scared because Dave hit you.

No, you had been terrified because of the folded up body shoved into the confined space. Either Gamzee was dead, or he would be soon.

Dave's gaze flickers back to you, and your blood runs cold. There's a look of possessiveness in the way his face is set, and you slowly begin to inch away. In a weird way, it was almost like you were seeing your true friend for the very first time. And you really didn't like the person in his place.

"And it was all going so well..." He muttered, hands curling into fists at his sides.

Your throat was tight with emotion and adrenaline, and the words almost didn't make it past your lips, but you managed to choke out, "D-Dave, what- what did you do?"

He didn't reply for a long moment, staring down at you blankly. "It as necessary." He offered weakly as an explanation. "He would have taken you away. They all would have."

"So you killed them?" You're voice was getting louder and more high pitched as you speak, and Dave must hear the disgust in your voice, because that makes him snap.

"I did it for you!" He yelled, "I did it for us! We can't you understand that?" You don't reply, which is fine, because he's not done ranting. "I love you, Karkat! Okay? And just the thought of losing you is the most painful thing I've ever experienced."

In any other situation, you might have been swooning, but Dave had killed people. And all because of a few little comments. Your hand fubbles in your pocket for your phone, but just as your hand wraps around it, Dave is on top of you, pinning you down with his body weight. He grabs your hands, holding them above your head, and snatches your phone, hurling it across the yard. You see the back of it come off and the battery fall out just before it hits the ground, no doubt cracked beyond any value.

Panicked, your eyes dart back to Dave and you begin struggling against his grip. A few times, you think you're almost loose, but Dave has always been stronger than you, and after a few minutes, you've worked up a light sweat and your chest heaves as you try to breathe. You're no closer to getting away, and he's no closer to letting you go.

He blinked a few times, and leans dangerously close to your face. You tried to move back, but the hard soil beneath your head kept you in place as he faintly brushed his lips to the corner of your mouth. "Mine…" He breathes against your skin. You freeze up, alarmed, but before you can attempt to escape again, he sits up, straddling your waist. There was a chance you could have thrown him off, but before you can try, he digs his heels into the ground and pins your wrists near your head once more. "You know too much, Karkat." He informs you with a sick grin. "Had you been anyone else, you'd be dead by now." A shiver runs down your spine. "But I could never do that. Instead…" Your eyes, which you hadn't realized had closed at all, opened then, just in time to see him straighten and pull something long and thin out of his backpack.

A syringed, you realize. Hadn't the nurse reported that missing just the day before?

Your struggles began anew, and Dave scowled down at you, putting more pressure on you until it was painful to move. "Stop moving, it'll only hurt more."

You didn't listen, but when the tip of the needle poked into your arm, you stilled, and he emptied the contents into your bloodstream. Almost immediately, your limbs feel heavy, like you're underwater. "Tranquilizer," Dave explained, flicking the tip of the needle with a smug grin. "Fast acting." He gets off of you, and you try to get up, only to find that your body won't obey you. You can't move, and the world is beginning to look fuzzy. You do manage to twist your body though, and you watch Dave pull Gamzee out of the trunk before coming back for you. Again, you tried to get up and run, but you can't, and he grabbed your arms, pulling you the short distance to what is most definitely your doom. "Don't worry, Karkat, he won't know it was me when he wakes up. He'll just think this was a nice nap." Dave says, as if that information is supposed to comfort you. He folded you carefully into the trunk, and because it was made for Gamzee, you actually had some room to move, if you could. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead, but you don't pull away, as it took all your strength just to keep your heavy eyelids open.

Dave moved to close the lid, but before he does, he whispered something you'll never forget. "No one's going to come between us ever again." And then there was nothing but black.

 _ **The Present: Exact Time, Date, and Global Coordinates**_ _ **Unknown**_

You don't even know what day it is anymore. Down in Dave's basement, minutes blend into hours, and hours into days, and days into weeks, until you're convinced you've been missing for years. No one has found you yet, and you're positive that they've stopped looking. After all, if you couldn't see the darkness coating your friend's mind wherever he went, then how would the police? How would anyone?

The sound of footsteps approach from the other side of the door, but you hardly care anymore. Dave has taken your friends, your family, and your life, and now he's shattered your sanity and broken your heart. There's nothing left for him to take.

What a bittersweet victory.

A key turns in the lock and after a few seconds, the heavy steel door opens soundlessly. You don't look up as Dave enters, but you can feel the smile on his face as he admires you, wrists clamped to the back of the chair, and your ankles chained to it's legs.

Surely, he must have found the sight beautiful.

"I brought you something, Kitkat." He says, and pulls a large bouquet of roses from his bag. They're red, like every other flower he's brought you, only a new kind. Before this there had been lillies, and before that poinsettias. All red. The color you hated so much. "Pretty, hmm?" And they are, but you'd never admit that. He tosses them aside, and they land in a crumpled heap with the other flowers, most dead by now, but some still barely hanging on to their vibrant colors. "Not really my thing, but I thought you'd like something extra before another one of our, heh, games."

At this you give an involuntary shudder. If there was one thing you'd never be numb to, it was Dave's opinion of 'fun'. You don't voice this opinion out loud, however. You had quickly learned that your cries of pain and pleads to be released only made him want to hear you scream louder.

"What? You're not going to answer?" You say nothing, and he frowns before quickly smoothing his face back into a mask of indifference. "Always so stubborn, Karkles," He taunts, using Terezi's old nickname for you. You stiffen, but otherwise don't react. "Why don't you just talk? I might even go easy on you today." Again, you remain silent. His frown deepens to a grimace, and you swear to have that expression permanently etched into his pale face before you utter a single syllable.

He just shrugs, a grin dominating his face as he runs a single finger down the line of your jaw . You try to pull away, but he's tied your bonds in such a way that you can't, and he smirks at this small accomplishment, cupping your cheek.

He leans in, one hand gripping the back of your head as he brushes his lips to yours, sending a shiver down your spine as you try to ignore how tantalizingly close he is, or how soft his lips are, like rose petals, and he always tastes of apples.

You may have resented him and everything he was doing, but you've known for years that your friend was hot.

Unknowingly, you had relaxed into his touch, and he smiles against your lips before, with a desire you weren't expecting, he begins really kissing you. The kind of kiss that twists your insides and curls your toes. You open your mouth just barely as you try to get a grip on yourself, and he takes the opportunity to shove his tongue in your mouth, one hand running through your messy black hair and the other tracing down your thigh.

"Dave-" You try to gasp out between breaths, but he quickly reduces your words to incoherent moans. He's touching you now, and as much as you want it to feel disgusting, the pleasure filling you is too great to describe, and he knows it.

"You're so beautiful when you're broken." He whispers against your skin. You shiver with hatred as he kisses you again, biting your lower lip until tears fill your eyes and there's blood on his teeth.

You belonged to Dave now, and the red collar he had forced around your neck on day one proved it. He had you. First in mind, then in soul, and if things continued like this, he would have you in body, too.

But you don't care anymore. Best to just give Dave what he wanted. At the very least, while he had you, he hadn't killed anyone else. Except your family when they tried to question him about your whereabouts, but what did that matter by this point?

"Every time you move tomorrow, I want you to be reminded that I've been here." Dave says possessively, biting into your neck until you let out a moan of pleasure and pain and a sizeable hickey is imprinted in your skin. "Only me. You. Are. Mine."

He trails back up to your bruised lips, and you kiss back. Only for a moment, but it was long enough. Dave grins, wider than you had thought possible, completely satisfied with knowing he had won this war. That was fine.

You had nothing left to live for anyway, and the way his hands felt against the tent in your jeans was almost too good to describe.

So why not?

You lean back, pushing back against his hand needily, trying to get more friction.

Why the fuck not?

* * *

 **A/N: The end.**


End file.
